Demigods of Radiance
by Firebird Falling
Summary: A random plot bunny that simply wouldn't go away until I wrote it.  Percy and co. get sucked into the world of Fire Emblem: Path of Radiance. It's actually turning out quite well, and I'll probably change the title eventually. Rated T for safety.
1. Chapter 1

Summary: A random little plot bunny that simply would not go away until I wrote it. Percy and company get sucked into the world of Fire Emblem: Path of Radiance. Yay?

A/N: Okay, so I have this penchant for really, really weird crossovers. This one probably won't last too long, but I'll have fun with it while it lasts! If enough people show interest (hint*review*hint) then I'll try to keep it alive.

By the way, do any of you Fire Emblem fans want to help me come up with classes and stats for Percy, Annabeth, Thalia and Nico? Percy is definitely a myrmidon (maybe a swordmaster?) who might eventually end up a sword-wielding Pegasus knight. Annabeth mainly uses a dagger, so she's a thief/rogue, but that seems really uninteresting, and she is a way better fighter than that. Maybe she could also be a mage of some kind? Thalia is harder – in the Titan's Curse, she has a spear, but as a Hunter of Artemis she would use a bow, and as a daughter of Zeus she would be great at Thunder magic. If no one can come up with a better idea, she'll probably end up a thunder mage. Nico is pretty obvious – he is a Dark Mage who can also use short swords/daggers, but I don't know about stats.

As for their powers (Percy breathing underwater, Annabeth's invisibility cap, Shadow-travel) you'll just have to wait and see. This is set a year after the Last Olympian, but as if The Lost Hero never happened, and five years before the start of Path of Radiance. Also, this isn't a romance fic, so pairings will be taking a backseat to the action. But, if you must know, the pairings are Percy/Annabeth, Elincia/Geoffrey (possibly Elincia/Ike) and Micaiah/Sothe (They will show up eventually). If you want to see a particular pairing, let me know and I'll see what I can do. I will indicate changes in POV with a dash.

Finally, I wish to apologize for the fact that my writing style is radically different – and far less amusing – than that of Rick Riordan, and for the possibility that Percy and the others will be slightly out of character. Please bear with the story despite this, unless you simply cannot stand it. Then stop, and don't bother to flame me. Any and all flames will be cheerfully ignored (constructive criticism is MORE than welcome, so long as it's helpful).

How's that for the longest A/N I've ever written?

Disclaimer: I do not own Fire Emblem or Percy Jackson and the Olympians, or any of the characters therein. *sigh*

Chapter 1: I Am Thrown Into An Alternate Universe

-Percy

"Percy, do you see anything?" Annabeth sounded a bit stressed; personally, I didn't blame her.

"Not a thing," I responded tiredly. I thought about adding a string of ancient Greek swear words to that, but decided that it wouldn't help. We were wandering pointlessly through a thick, misty forest smack-dab in the middle of Ecuador. Why? Because the gods told us to. Supposedly, Athena had sensed some kind of time-space continuum disturbance at this spot. Well, I'm assuming that's what she sensed, because I really didn't understand a word that she said. Something about "alternate universe", "dire threat" and "video games", which I thought was kind of random, but whatever; I wasn't about to argue with the goddess of battle strategy.

Anyway, Apollo had given me (Percy Jackson), my girlfriend (Annabeth Chase), and two of my close friends (Nico di Angelo and Thalia Grace) a ride to Ecuador in his sun chariot. Usually, Thalia would be off hunting with Artemis, goddess of the moon, but she was visiting Camp Half-Blood when Athena's message arrived, and so she decided to tag along. It was pretty much the same deal with Nico, except he was usually hanging out with his dad in the Underworld.

As this wasn't really an official quest, we hadn't received a prophecy from Rachel, our Oracle back at camp, which could account for part of why Annabeth was being so irritable. The other part was our time limit; if we didn't find this disturbance thing and close it before sunset, we'd have to spend the night in the middle of the Ecuador rainforest, which was not on my top ten places I'd want to spend the night. The mist was just creepy, and Riptide couldn't hurt regular animals, so we'd be in a tight spot if a leopard suddenly decided we looked like lunch. Wait, do they even have leopards in Ecuador?

I was opening my mouth to ask Annabeth when I spotted a weird shimmer in the air a few feet ahead. "Annabeth, what's that?" Just so you know, what happened next was totally not my fault.

"Don't touch it!" What was she thinking? I may not be a son of Athena, but I know better than to touch the weird shimmery thing when we're out looking for a portal into an alternate universe. She grabbed my shirt and yanked me backwards, but I wasn't expecting it, so I tripped over a tree root and landed on top of her. She fell on top of Thalia, who then fell backwards and smacked Nico into a tree. All four of us went sprawling on the forest floor. I had a feeling that Dionysus was watching us from his TV and cracking up. Maybe Ares too. The shimmer flared suddenly, and I could've sworn I heard the sound of cloth ripping, like the portal was tearing a hole in the air.

I tried to get away from it, but the portal was literally sucking me towards it. Annabeth yelled, "Hold hands!" just seconds before we were all violently pulled into a glowing, pulsing portal about the size of a wide-screen TV. I grabbed Annabeth's hand, and after a moment of floating in the void, I felt the icy touch of Nico's hand. We spun in random circles, an out of control merry-go-round in an enormous void of pure light. The hint of green behind us faded out – the portal to Ecuador had closed entirely. I could feel bits of myself floating away into that void, and the rest of myself was changing, subtly but noticeably. The small of my back started burning suddenly, but I couldn't cry out. I felt the tug of air once more, and a portal reappeared in front of us. We flew through it and landed in a heap on the floor of an entirely foreign forest.

Every part of my body hurt – I felt like I had just been pounded to a pulp by a bunch of Laistrygonian giants with clubs. My mortal spot on the small of my back felt like it had been branded with red-hot iron. From the groans my companions were making, I guessed they were feeling the same way. I was having trouble breathing through the pain – it had been a year and half since I had last felt that kind of agony. Ever since my little swim in the River Styx just before my sixteenth birthday, I'd been practically invincible, except for my "mortal spot" on my back, which meant that even if someone had tried to run me through with a sword, I wouldn't have felt a thing.

After a few minutes, the pain started to fade, so I sat up and looked around. I didn't recognize any of the trees – then again, I'm no wildlife expert. I'd have to ask Thalia; she knew more than most about trees, having spent around five years as a pine tree. There was no sign of any kind of civilization – just trees, bushes and dirt. The air was incredibly fresh and clean; it reminded me of the time I had met Pan, god of the wild.

Beside me, Annabeth had already forced herself to her feet and was slightly green, as if she was dizzy from our extra dimensional field trip. She was leaning against a tree and rubbing the back of her neck. I did a double-take when I looked at her. Instead of jeans and her Camp Half-Blood T-shirt – which she had insisted on wearing to Ecuador – she was now wearing an outfit worthy of a Renaissance Faire. It was some kind of dress with two slits up her thighs with tights underneath and a belt with her dagger hanging from it. The dress itself was red with hints of purple and orange, but her tights were light gray. Not her us ual style at all, but I thought she looked great. Then I thought to look at what I was wearing. My shoes were boots that went halfway to my knees, and my pants were loose-fitting, tan cloth. My shirt was a dark shade of blue with black along the hem, and Riptide was in a sheath clipped to my belt. Self-inspection done, I turned back to Annabeth.

"Annabeth, where are we?"

-Annabeth

"…Huh?"

I sighed. I loved Percy to death – I had almost died for him once or twice –, but sometimes he was just hopeless. Absolutely hopeless. I decided to give him the mega-simplified version. "We are trapped in an alternate dimension based on a strategy game called Fire Emblem: Path of Radiance, or possibly its sequel, Radiant Dawn."

Thalia just blinked at me, a slightly dazed look in her eyes. I was guessing that was the only reason she hadn't already noticed that her typical black leather ensemble had been replaced by old-fashioned black breeches and tunic. She was standing awkwardly so she wouldn't have to put any weight on her right knee – apparently it hurt pretty bad. She normally didn't advertise the fact that she was in pain, serious or not. Nico was rubbing his shoulder and scowling at his outfit, which had changed into black robes that completely dwarfed his form. He still had his Stygian Iron short sword and his silver skull-shaped ring. Percy seemed to be in the worst condition of all of us; he still hadn't managed to even stand up. I had a terrible headache and burning pain on the back of my neck, but besides that and a residual ache in my joints, I was fine.

"So… How did we get here, exactly?"

I stifled another sigh. How to explain it… "Imagination is a very powerful thing, Percy, and sometimes it takes on a life of its own." Three pairs of confused demigod eyes stared at me. "Each story, video game, movie, etc. has a world all its own that usually remains completely separate from all other worlds. It does not end or begin with the story that spawned it; it is a complete world, though usually the story does play a key role in the history. Sometimes – very rarely – two worlds will crash into each other. Normally, they collide briefly, then separate. When the portals become large enough to threaten the balance – that is, a character could escape from one world to the other – the gods will sense it and send a specific demigod to close it. The gods sense specific intrusions; worlds formed from stories that they can relate to. Ares will sense war stories; Athena will sense strategy games, etc. The presence of a child of that particular god will generally close the portal. Understand?"

They still looked confused. I decided to ignore that. "I'll take that as a yes. We were sucked into the portal because Percy was the first person to touch it; his energy strengthened the portal instead of closing it. Any questions?"

"Only the obvious one," Thalia said. "How in the name of Olympus are we going to get back?"

I shrugged. "Our connection to our world is strong. Another portal should open soon."

Percy narrowed his eyes at me. "How soon?"

"Sometime within the ten years or so."

He groaned and put his face in his hands. Thalia suddenly gasped and said something along the lines of "What the Hades am I wearing?" Nico looked distracted, as if he was trying to remember something. "What did you say this game was called again?"

"Fire Emblem: Path of Radiance. The main continent is called Tellius, and it's a war strategy game with medieval weapons and magic." I'd never played the game, but Athena had told me that much when she told me to go close the portal.

His face brightened. "I remember! Bianca and I played that game while we were at the Lotus Hotel and Casino!"

Percy grabbed my hand and tried to stand. I put his arm around my shoulders and helped him up. Wincing faintly, he looked at Nico. "Really? What do you remember about it?"

Nico tried to think. "The main character was Ike. I'm pretty sure he had blue hair." Percy snickered. "I'm serious! The other main character, a Princess – I can't remember her name – had green hair. The whole game was about defeating the Mad King of another country. I remember there were two different races; humans and … I think they were called laguz. Or something like that. They were part animal, and they could transform and everything. They were really cool. But the humans hated them, and they hated the humans. So there was a ton of conflict there. That's really all I can remember."

Thalia rubbed her knee absently. "So, what are we going to do for the next decade or so? We barely know anything about this world, we have no idea where we are, and no way to survive for another week unless we find people who are willing to give us food."

Percy frowned at her. "First things first, Thalia. What's wrong with your knee?"

She scowled. "It's… it feels like it's burning."

I pressed my fingers against the back of my neck; the skin was still hot to the touch. Percy put his free hand on his back, and Nico rubbed his shoulder. "The back of my neck is too," I admitted.

Percy took his hand off his back and lifted my hair so he could see my neck. He gasped and swore in Greek. "What is it?" I demanded.

"It's this red mark. It looks like one of those Celtic Knot things, except it kind of makes the shape of an Alpha." An Alpha was the first letter of the Greek alphabet, and looked pretty much identical to the letter "A" in English.

"Let me see your knee, Thalia," I said. She obediently sat down and rolled her breeches up to her knee. Her mark was a dark green, three-inch long lightning bolt. Nico rolled up his shirtsleeve to reveal a pitch-black mark that circled his triceps like one of those ridiculous tribal tattoos. It was mostly just random designs and swirls, but I could pick out the Greek word for ghost hidden in the design.

Once the exclamations and curses died down, the three of us turned to Percy. Using a tree for support, he turned around and lifted up his shirt. His mark was burned into his "mortal spot" on his back. Was that chance? It was blue and simple; a trident surrounded by a few wavy lines, denoting waves.

We all were silent for a moment. "Okay," Nico said finally. "What the (insert ancient Greek swear word) is going on?"


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Yes, I have finally returned and updated. Please don't get mad at me for my erratic updates; my home computer hates this website and I have trouble getting to the library. But, anyway, here it is! Chapter 2! *dun dun dun*

Disclaimer: I promise I'm not doing this for profit, and I don't own ANYTHING (Do I have to do this every chapter?)

Chapter 2

-Nico

"Okay," I said finally. "What the (insert ancient Greek swear word) is going on?"

I could tell Annabeth was thinking hard, but wasn't coming up with any answers. Percy ventured a suggestion from his position leaning heavily against a tree. "Maybe the portal changed us so we'd match this world better. Or something." He looked kind of pale.

Thalia scowled. She had her silver Hunter's bow slung over her shoulder, and her spear and shield, Aegis, were on the ground beside her. Strangely enough, Aegis didn't disturb me like it usually did, as if Medusa's image had lost some of its potency during the trip through the portal. "These idiot marks will help us fit in? Nico didn't say anything about weird markings on the characters." She was tugging uncomfortably at her new clothes as she spoke.

I shrugged. "It's been awhile since I played that game, so I don't know. But these clothes are definitely very Fire Emblem."

Annabeth spoke up. "I think Percy's right. At the very least, he's close. I can't come up with any other logical explanation, and it also explains the clothes." She frowned. "Now we just need to figure out exactly what's changed, besides just those marks."

Percy nodded. "I guess if that portal changed us to match this world, it might have taken away abilities that didn't fit into their reality."

I winced. I hadn't thought of that. What if we'd lost our powers? I concentrated, using my sword to focus my energy, but I couldn't sense the afterlife like I usually could. I could hear whispers of the dead, but nothing understandable. "Crap," I said after a few minutes of pointless effort.

Thalia shared my sentiments. She was trying to create sparks by snapping her fingers (which actually looks really cool when it works – don't you dare tell her I said that) but was failing miserably. Percy looked too tired to test out his powers, but he closed his eyes. After a moment, he opened them. "Maybe I could use my powers, if I had some water. But the earth, at least, isn't listening." As the son of Poseidon, the Earthshaker, Percy could usually summon a small earthquake or two, though he didn't have the control over rocks that I did.

Annabeth searched through her new dress-tunic-thing, but all she found was a couple of books with red covers and words we couldn't read. "I still have my dagger, but my cap is gone," she announced.

I couldn't quite decide whether I should be excited or extremely ticked off. I mean, being inside a video game? That's awesome! But being _trapped_ inside a video game with your powers gone and no way to call for help? Not so much. Besides, it wasn't like we could just beat the game and get out. This world was real, in its own way. On a whim, I reached out to my father, but I couldn't feel his presence. Apparently, the gods couldn't reach us here. Well, crap.

"Okay, this sucks," Thalia said, interrupting my train of thought. "Now that we've figured that out, what are we going to do about it?"

"We need a plan," Annabeth responded immediately. Well, she was a daughter of Athena.

"For once, I agree with you," I said. "We need to figure out a back story, so we're not trying to come up with something on the spot."

"We don't know the names of any of the countries or cities," Percy pointed out.

"So we make one up," Annabeth countered. "A small town in the middle of nowhere."

"Or an island," Thalia said, warming to the idea.

I grinned. "Yeah. A really small island, just off the coast of… somewhere. Let's call it Manhattan."

The four of us cracked up. It really wasn't funny, but we were tired, confused and really stressed out. It felt good to laugh, even at something so stupid.

"No, seriously," Annabeth said, trying to stop laughing. "We'll say we lived a small island off the coast. That's pretty nonspecific."

"Can we please call it Manhattan?" Percy begged.

"Oh, fine." She scowled at him, but we could all tell she didn't mean it. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. "So, why'd we leave Manhattan?" There was another round of muffled laughter.

"A quest," Thalia offered.

"No," I said. "We need something more… normal. As far as I can recall, they didn't have quests in Fire Emblem."

"Okay, then. How about… we got bored of our parents? Left in search of adventure, that sort of thing," she responded.

"And then we got hopelessly lost," Percy finished. "I like it."

"Perfect." Annabeth smiled in satisfaction. "Now, which direction should we go?"

"East," Thalia said simply, pointing in that direction. "That way the sun won't be in our eyes."

"Good thinking." Annabeth nodded. "Let's go."

-Annabeth

"Good thinking." I nodded. "Let's go." And off we went. It was pretty easy going, at least for the first hour. The trees were widely spaced and the ground was level. After a while though, Thalia started limping again, and Nico was even paler than usual. Percy looked like he was about to collapse. Maybe it had something to do with being a child of the Big Three, because I was mostly feeling fine. My head still hurt, and my neck was throbbing, but I wasn't tired.

After Percy tripped on a root and almost fell, I called a halt. We didn't really have any place to go; we were just moving for the sake of moving. "Let's take a break," I said. Thalia leaned casually against a tree, as if she wasn't absolutely exhausted. Percy and Nico didn't bother to pretend; they sat down hard on the tree roots and closed their eyes.

I ran my finger through my hair, trying to think. _Okay, three out of four demigods are probably too tired to fight, so we'll have trouble defending ourselves. Options… Hiding? No, we don't know anywhere to hide. Recovery? Difficult. Would require shelter. And food. Lots of food. The only food available is animals; I don't recognize the plants, so therefore cannot know which are safe. Thalia could probably hunt, but that would require the use of a fire. Fire! We should look for smoke and find other people, beg for help. No… Not a reliable strategy. Too reliant on the demeanor of natives. So… do both. Percy and Nico can most likely put a fire together without my help. Thalia is a Hunter; she can find food for them. I will search for help. Wait. We need shelter too. Should we keep moving then, or –_

"Annabeth. Annabeth." I suddenly became aware of Thalia trying to get my attention.

I snapped back to reality (or whatever messed-up version of reality we were currently inhabiting). "What?"

Thalia stared at me patiently. "You were staring off into space. I was starting to worry."

I waved her off. "I was just trying to think. Athena always has a plan." I composed my thoughts. "Okay, we need to find some kind of shelter before nightfall. Then we need to find food – and by "we", I mean "you". The boys will make a fire – if they can do so without burning themselves. I will go find other people and return to our shelter once I've gotten some help." As far as plans went, it was pretty bad. In fact, it was downright horrible. There were way too many holes in my logic, but our situation was pretty impossible to begin with.

Thalia frowned. "I don't want to separate. What if you get into trouble?"

I spoke with more confidence than I felt. "Come on, Thalia. I can handle myself in a fight. Besides, we'll have to contact the people here sooner or later. What other choice do we have?"

It took me a few more minutes to completely convince her, but within the hour we were walking eastwards once more. Just as the sun was setting, we came across a wide clearing with the ashes of a campfire in the middle and a run-down cabin on the edge, almost hidden by trees. It was some kind of traveler's sanctuary; clearly, the cabin was not meant for long-term habitation, but there were several signs of recent activity. Thalia declared that a group of six people had stayed here for one night two days ago. According to the Hunter, there had been one horse-rider, one person in heavy armor, two men, and two children. They had oh-so-conveniently restocked the wood pile, so we didn't even have to look for fire wood.

"Perfect," I said. "You guys stay here. I'll be back by sunset tomorrow." Percy grabbed my arm. Despite our rest earlier today, he looked awful.

"No way, Annabeth. You're tired too, I can tell." I hated to admit it, but he was right. The portal hadn't affected me too much, but the day's trek had begun to tell on me. "We can all stay the night here. In the morning, you and I can both go after those people. Nico and Thalia can find a more permanent shelter for us."

I wanted to argue, but just then, I yawned. After that, nothing I could say would convince Percy that I didn't need sleep just as much as he did. There were no beds in the cabin, so we copied Thalia and made beds of leaves and grass outside the cabin. I slept peacefully, without dreams.

The next morning, Percy and I set out, following the tracks of the group that had stayed in the cabin two nights before. We had been walking for about an hour when Percy suddenly perked up. "I hear running water," he told me. "Come on!"

I smiled and followed him, but my smile twisted into a frown the moment we caught sight of the river. About a dozen large, dirty men were relaxing on the riverbank. Their tracks led upstream on the edge of the river, which was why we hadn't come across their trail in the forest. They were so ugly and gruff I felt sure they had to be some kind of criminal or bandit. Percy was so eager to get to the river he nearly tripped over his own feet when he saw the men and started backing up. Too late. They had already seen us.

Even as I drew my dagger and prepared to fight, my head was spinning. Could we fight them? How did Celestial Bronze work here? At least I could understand the bandits' language, as coarse and rude as it was. The possibility of a language barrier had been bothering me. Percy, as usual, didn't bother to pause and plan. He charged right towards them, trying to rush through and get to the river. My heart pounded as the adrenaline entered my system. That could work out very well, _if_ Percy still had his water-based abilities. If he, like Thalia and Nico, had lost his powers, he could be in trouble. Obviously, he had the Curse of Achilles, but he wasn't wearing any armor, and there was always a chance a stray axe-blade could hit his back…

Riptide slipped through the first bandit's ribcage, then came up, bursting the man's heart. Well. Apparently, Celestial Bronze _could_ cut mortals. Or, these people weren't considered mortals… A nasty looking axe-blade descended towards the top of my skull. I dodged easily and drove my dagger into his shoulder, slicing the tendons. Whipping the dagger out, I slid the blade into his neck. Ignoring the warm spray of blood – and the sudden, sickening realization that I had just killed someone, not a monster, for the first time in a year and a half – I backed up, keeping my dagger at the ready. I checked on Percy. He was fighting brilliantly, and he was close to the water. Then, an axe came in, deceptively low. Percy's blade was lodged inside another bandit's throat; he didn't even try to block. Why should he? Achilles' Curse would protect him… wouldn't it?

Riptide bit into the man's arm, but the axe had already cut a diagonal slash from Percy's chest to his left hip. My heart almost stopped. Percy stared open-mouthed at the bloodied axe and fell backward. Blood roared in my ears, but I tried to push my panic away. He had fallen into the river. The water would heal him. It had to. It _had_ to.

But Percy didn't get back up.

I wanted to scream, but my jaws were clamped shut. I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe. Not Seaweed Brain, I thought. Oh, gods, no, not my Percy. One of the men, his arm bleeding from Percy's final strike, rolled Percy further into the river's current, but my attention snapped back to the other bandits, who had gathered in a circle around me, blocking any escape.

For the first time in my life, I didn't know what to do.

"Lookit what we found, boys," one of the men sneered. I ignored him and assessed my enemies – Percy had killed two and crippled one, and I had killed one more. Eight were left. I couldn't take that many, not in this condition. If only I had my cap!

The man was still talking. "Them slave traders like sub-humans, but they'll always take a pretty girl too, won't they, boys?" What in Athena's name was a sub-human? Oh, what did it matter? Percy was… I looked at him, fury tightening my grip on the hilt of my dagger. I didn't have my cap. There was no way out, and I'd rather go down fighting than be sold as a slave. I rushed forward, digging my blade into the man's stomach. He choked on his own blood and turned away, but another man must've come up behind me. The flat of an axe crashed into the back of my skull, and everything went dark.

A/N: OH NO! IT'S A CLIFFIE! Don't worry, I hate those too. I'll update as soon as I can.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: As a bonus for waiting so long for me to find a computer that works with this website, I have uploaded two chapters in one day!

Gah, writing in first person is so frustrating sometimes! I'm sorry if my writing in this story isn't exactly brilliant; I am so much better at third-person. Nonetheless, this is a good writing exercise for me, and I figure it's better to honor the original writing style of the author.

Chapter 3:

-Geoffrey

Just ahead of me, my father's mount wove through the trees, its hooves obnoxiously loud against the twigs and dead leaves on the forest floor. My own horse – it was a pony, really, as my father had yet to let me on one of his warhorses, though I was nearing my thirteenth year – was much quieter, picking its way through the debris. The hounds were eager, tearing back and forth through the undergrowth, but they hadn't caught a scent yet. Through the leaves, I could see that the sky was streaked with gray clouds – it would rain soon, tonight at the latest. I had been hunting before, but never in this particular forest. My father said it was his favorite place to hunt, though it was a full day's ride from our home in Castle Delbray, because not only was it full of excellent game, but one could also find the occasional group of bandits roaming the trees. Father had once served as a Royal Knight of Crimea, before he had been awarded the care of the secret princess, Elincia, and returned home to raise her, and he still delighted in the chance to help protect his country.

For that reason, I held a stash of fighting lances on my saddle beside my quiver of arrows, and my heart was still pounding with excitement. I was paying close attention to everything so I could relay the story to my sister, Lucia, when we returned. For a moment, I felt a twinge of pity for her; she had begged Father to let her come, but Father has some very definite ideas on what a woman should and should not do. Deer hunting in bandit-infested woods was apparently not the kind of activity he imagined a properly raised fourteen-year-old noblewoman engaging in.

Suddenly, a hound started baying frantically, and I nearly leapt from my saddle. The rest of the pack soon caught the scent, and then we were off. We were accompanied by only a few other hunters, some friends of Father's from his time as a Knight, but it sounded as if a whole battalion was crashing through the trees.

I noticed that the hounds were behaving differently than normal; instead of the deep, excited howl they typically used while tracking game, they were yipping frantically, as if they had scented blood. Also, I could tell it was a scent in the air instead of a trail on the ground, because the hounds never once paused to press their noses in the dirt and reaffirm the trail.

After what seemed hardly a single minute but must have been at least fifteen or twenty, we reached a river bank, where the hounds were crowding around something caught in the shallows. Father gave a sharp whistle, and they backed away from their find.

It was a human boy, perhaps two or three years older than Lucia. His sword was gripped tightly in his hand, but his face was deathly pale, and he had a jagged cut from his shoulder to his hip, bleeding profusely.

Father leapt from his horse energetically and I scrambled to follow his example, winding my pony's reins around a nearby tree branch. The other hunters dismounted as well and tried to keep the hounds in check. I ignored them and rushed to my father's side.

He was examining the cut grimly. "Bandits," he said darkly. "This is an axe-wound – a lucky shot for the bandit that made it, I would guess. He looks like a fighter to me."

"Is he alive, Father?" I asked eagerly. What an excellent story this would make!

Father shook his head. "Not possible. This wound is at least an hour old. He's lost far too much blood…"

But I was sure I saw the boy's chest move. I leaned forward and put my hand on the vein in his neck, as Mother had taught me. "But, Father, there's a pulse."

He seemed shocked as he too felt the faint pulse of blood in the boy's neck. "How in the name of the goddess did he last that long with a cut like that, and in a river, no less?"

Before I could say another word, Father had pulled the boy out of the river and lifted him, sopping wet, onto dry ground. Calling for some bandages, he and the others bound the boy's cut and put him on a horse in front of Bastian, the eighteen-year-old Count of Fayre who was always talking in riddles. Father sent me with Bastian to get the boy to the nearest town for a quick healing, then back to Delbray. Father was very generous to those less fortunate than himself; he would make sure the boy got the best of care. He and the others mounted up and readied their lances, charging upstream with the hounds in tow, to find and kill the bandits.

I wished fervently that Father had let me accompany him to battle; I didn't want to play nursemaid to a half-dead boy, much less with Bastian the poet. But a Knight always obeys, so I followed the blonde Count without a word of complaint. He slowed his horse until we walked side-by-side and looked at me from the corner of his eye. "Come now, young Geoffrey, why so long and tragic an expression on your fair, young face? Surely your heart is yet too young and tender to be beset with battle lust, a longing for rage and foul havoc."

I ignored his question – not that I really could have answered it anyway. Why did he have to talk like that? "We should go faster." I was worried about the boy; his face was pale and creepily bloodless, and I was also worried about those clouds. I was careful to keep my face neutral – or, at least, I tried to. I really can't say how successful I was, but at least Bastian decided to stay quiet for the rest of the trip. It took us about a half-hour to reach a village, and luckily they had a reasonably proficient priestess on hand. She bandaged the boy and held a staff over his wounds, muttering prayers to Ashera under her breath. I wanted to move on quickly, but Bastian insisted we let the boy recover overnight before tying him to a horse for the day-long ride back to Delbray. Also, it was pouring rain.

I wanted to say, "A Knight never delays" but I figured Bastian would just laugh. Or, worse, he would lecture me (for _hours_) on the joys of youth versus the virtues of knighthood or something like that. His lectures were even worse than Father's, and Father always gave the exact same "Your honor is your life" lecture, which I could practically quote back to him by now (not that I ever would). At least Father made _sense_.

-Nico

Thalia was pacing back and forth across the clearing, bow in hand. Two dead rabbits were roasting in the fire pit, but she didn't seem to care. "Calm down," I snapped at her. "Annabeth said they'd be back by sunset. They still have half a day." I knew I was overreacting, but I was worried too, and that made me irritable.

She sat down for a moment, but soon she was up and pacing again. "We should go after them."

"No, we shouldn't," I corrected her. "We should wait. If they're not back by tomorrow morning, we follow them." I understood her frustration though. If there's one thing demigods are _not _good at, it's sitting still when your friends could be in trouble.

The minutes crept by. Thirty minutes later, Thalia snapped. "Okay, that's it," Thalia said. "I can't stand this. We are going after them now." I should have told her to wait. If I had known… but I didn't, and the waiting was becoming painful. So I just stood and brushed the dirt off my robes and followed her into the forest.

The portal hadn't taken away Thalia's tracking skills; she was easily able to follow Percy and Annabeth's trail. I looked up nervously; very little light was filtering through the canopy of leaves. For a moment, I couldn't even see the sun, and then I realized it was hidden by ominous storm clouds. Oh, well, that couldn't be good.

"Thalia. We should go back."

She glared at me. "Why would we do that?"

I pointed up at the approaching storm. "Can you track in the rain?"

She scowled at me and didn't answer. After a moment, she turned and started back towards our little shelter. But it was too late. The water came down in freezing cold buckets, and within minutes both of us were completely soaked. Then, the lightning started.

-Annabeth

I woke with a pounding headache. That idiot bandit had given me a nasty blow (my hair was crusted with dried blood) but I'd definitely had worse. I was tightly bound and slung over the back of a poor, dirty horse. Immediately, I realized why I had woken; it was pouring rain. I thanked Athena silently for this blessing; the sooner I woke up, the more I could plan. After about ten minutes, I changed my mind. The rain was freezing cold, and there was really nothing to plan. I couldn't cut my bonds, I couldn't see anything besides the wet debris covering the forest floor and the ragged brown coat of the horse, I couldn't smell anything except muddy, wet fur, and the only sounds I could hear were the muffled footsteps of my captors. All I could do was think. And, inevitably, my thoughts turned to Percy.

That gods-curst idiot! Why did he have to charge ahead? Why hadn't I thought of his Curse? I kept seeing that moment in my mind, playing over and over and over, like a broken record I couldn't stop. The axe plunging into his flesh, the red of his blood, that painful, agonizing look of shock on his face as he fell slowly, slowly, so slow I could see his eyes close and his skin pale and his blood flow –

I was crying, my tears joining the rain flowing down my cheeks.

I remembered the time when he had charged into Mount Saint Helen and I had thought he was dead. I remembered how, as the weeks passed with no sign, no one believed me when I said I knew he was still alive, until at last, even I was convinced. I remembered the shock, the joy and the fury I felt when he stumbled back into camp, stopped us from burning his shroud. This time I had seen his blood. But I still had never seen his dead body. The agony of ignorance gnawed at my heart. He wouldn't have died in a river. It wasn't possible. But I had seen…

This went on for a little while, or maybe a long time. All I know is that, eventually, my eyes started to slip shut and I came to a final conclusion.

He was probably dead. I accepted that. But I would never forget, no matter how many years passed, the possibility that he was not.

-Thalia

The rain lightened up after a few minutes and we were making decent progress through the woods when there was a blinding flash and a wave of heat. I knew the feeling quite well, actually, thanks to my dad. It was lightning.

When my vision cleared, I saw that lightning had struck a tree not ten feet from us, and despite the rain, a fire was coming to life. I grabbed Nico's hand (believe me, _not_ something I would normally do) and ran for my life. I knew forest fires quite well – Artemis had brought us to California once to see the idiocy of men in the woodlands. They could travel almost as fast as a Hunter jogging– around 15 miles per hour. At full sprint, I could go 35 mph, but I was still weak and I was dragging a much slower son of Hades. The rain would help, but not much.

In other words, we were in trouble.

A/N: Okay, I feel like I should explain Percy's miraculous survival. Yes, he has lost the Curse of Achilles, just like Nico and Thalia have also lost their powers, and he can no longer breathe underwater. Here's the thing; he still has an affinity for water. It won't heal him completely, but it stopped him from dying, and he is still an excellent swimmer, even when half-dead from blood loss. He is, after all, a Branded, and they can have all sorts of interesting powers. As for Thalia and Nico… You'll just have to wait and see. Please review!


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: I just wanted to let all of you guys who are reading know that I really, really appreciate your reviews. I didn't really expect to get many, and y'all have definitely inspired me to write now. Again, I apologize for the inconsistency of my updates – my computer still refuses to cooperate.

And finally, I will thank all of my reviewers, because I kinda forgot to do that the last two chapters.

Cooking samurai

Z.L.C.

Pure Aqua

Arandomreviewer – Wow, you've reviewed my story, what, four times now? Thank you so much for the attention – I am sincerely flattered. As to your classing system, I think I will end up combining yours and Emerald Swordman's. I will post the finished product within the next two or three chapters. Also, I'm sorry if you don't like what I'm doing with their powers, but I like for my characters to have major challenges to deal with, and with their powers Percy and the others are just too powerful. Don't worry – they will regain many of their abilities, but it will be a slow process. I try to keep my crossovers "realistic" (that is, make them fit into the reality they've been sucked into). Because gods aren't the same in Tellius as they are in Percy's world, I decide to base them off of Branded and make their powers more Fire Emblemish. So, for example, Percy's Achilles Curse may or may not have been turned into magical armor (not unlike that belonging to the Black Knight) that Percy may or may not discover eventually (coughspoilercough). Finally, I have plans for this story to the end of PoR, and I'm still working on RD – I will definitely make a sequel, because I really love RD. (Also, I would not dream of pairing Thalia with anyone – I hate it when people do that.)

( O.o That was really long.)

Emerald Swordman – thank you for the ideas on their classes and abilites, I really appreciate it.

As for plot ideas, I could use a bit of help. See, I have plans for Percy, Annabeth and Thalia, but I really have no idea where Nico should end up. I want them all to be in different places, so he can't just go with Thalia or something. So, where do y'all picture Nico, and what is he doing? He should be somewhere in Daein or Crimea, but it would be possible for him to end up in Gallia or something. Don't get ticked at me if I don't use your ideas in the actual story, please, but I could really use some help.

Now that I'm done with my obscenely long Author's Note, on with the story!

Chapter 4:

-Annabeth

A thousand curses on these idiots, I thought furiously. I hope this miserable storm gives them the flu. And bronchitis.

I had no idea how long I had been asleep – probably not too long, as it was still raining. We still weren't stopping, and a new annoyance was starting to intrude on my thoughts – hunger. I was starving.

Every time I tried to shift my position or speak, a bandit would smack me on the back of my head. After a few tries, I gave up – the pain was making me feel nauseous.

I realized that the bandits were starting to panic slightly, and I heard the leader say something about a fire. Craning my head painfully, I managed to catch a glimpse of the trees behind us. There was a thick cloud of oily smoke and a flicker of orange light. The men broke into a run, dragging the horse behind them.

The horse's canter was uneven and jarring – my head throbbed with each step. Eventually I just couldn't take it any longer, and I slipped into unconsciousness once more.

-Nico

Yep, we were doomed.

A strong wind had come up out of nowhere and started blowing us around. I tripped and got slammed against a tree more times than I liked to admit (I was tired, okay?). The fire behind us was growing larger and larger, hissing and spitting. We couldn't outrun it here – the ground was covered in leaves and grass, most of which had been shielded from the rain by the trees. The fire was roaring merrily along while the wind was blowing us in circles. If we could make it out of the forest, maybe we'd stand more of a chance. Maybe.

The problem? We had no idea where we were or which direction to go. And the fire was gaining on us.

Maybe the god (or was it a goddess? I seem to remember there was a goddess in Path of Radiance) of Tellius had taken an exception to us, because this was irritatingly unlucky. I mean, what are the chances that we get sucked into another dimension based on a freaking video game, lose track of two of our friends within forty-eight hours, almost get struck by lightning, and then get caught in a full-on forest fire?

I guess a demigod's bad luck is transdimensional, unlike our powers.

Anyway, while we were running for our lives, I realized that the trees were starting to thin out – we were coming to the edge of the forest.

I was too out of breath to say anything, but Thalia muttered a brief thanks to the gods. Then, of course, she started to go even faster, until I felt like she was going to drag my arm out of its socket.

Without the protection of tree branches overhead, the rain pounded against our skin, but we both we so full of adrenaline we barely noticed. The towering forest trees were gone, replaced by small, sickly looking trees and scattered bushes. Rising up in the distance was an ominous-looking mountain range. There was an obnoxious amount of weedflowers, nasty little things with thorns and stickers that tore at our feet. I was suddenly very grateful for the weird, knee-high leather boots we were wearing (though I was already dreading the moment I'd have to take them off and figure out how to work all those laces) because tennis shoes definitely wouldn't have cut it.

Thalia's manic pace slowed slightly as she fought her way through the weeds, and she nearly fell over when we stumbled onto a packed dirt road. It was straight and relatively level, and I realized with a mental sigh that we had been running through woods almost exactly parallel to it. I guess finding it now was lucky, but it would have been a lot more useful back in the woods. Not that I really had time to ponder this too much, because as soon as Thalia got her feet back under her she was off, dragging me behind her.

I understood her haste and did my best to keep up – the weeds would make excellent fuel for that fire, and the wind had shifted so that it was blowing in the same direction we were.

More than that though, I ran because now that we were out of the forest, I almost, kind of, in a way thought we might have a chance. A small chance, mind you, but I'd taken long shots before. I don't think Percy ever quite realized the depth of the risk he took when he dipped into the River Styx – he was only in that black water for seconds, maybe minutes, but to me it seemed like hours. And, of course, there was how I convinced Lord Hades to join his brothers and sisters in fighting the Titans – that was a long shot too.

After a while, Thalia slowed to a run, then a jog. By that point, I was ready to collapse and not move for a week, but Thalia still had a death grip on my arm (Ha! Sorry – that was a little son-of-the-god-of-death humor) and it was either run or have my face dragged through the dirt. At least the rain kept us cool.

As much as I hate to admit it, she probably saved my life, because I never would have made it so far so fast on my own.

I had no way of telling how long we had been running (except for the fact that it was way longer than I wanted to) but when Thalia finally stumbled into a walk then stopped altogether, I realized that the storm was starting to break up. The rain was slacking off, and in the west sky the color of ripe peaches was emerging from the gray. With some surprise, I realized it was sunset, and we had been running since midday. There was still an ominous cloud of smoke rising behind us, but we allowed ourselves the luxury of collapsing in the grass on the edge of the path. Luckily, we had left the weeds far behind, but even if we hadn't, I hardly would have cared. I was so tired I fell asleep the moment my head hit the ground and that night, I didn't dream.

-Geoffrey

Bastian roused me at dawn, and we crept softly to the stables so as not to wake the other occupants of the inn where we were staying. The priestess and her husband helped us carry the boy and lift him on to Bastian's horse. He was still sleeping, though he was a very restless sleeper, twitching and murmuring under his breath.

The priestess tapped him on the shoulder with a strange-looking staff, and he quieted. "He'll sleep for another day and night, and after that he should be fully recovered," she said softly.

Bastian nodded his thanks and offered her a few gold pieces as payment – she accepted them gladly. And then we were off, cantering towards Delbray.

-Thalia

My eyes snapped open as the sun peaked over the horizon. A few feet away, Nico was curled up in a forlorn pile of black robes. I stood and began to stretch the soreness out of my muscles. Wrinkling my nose at the acrid smell of ash, I turned to face the forest. The fire apparently burned itself out during the night, just short of our position. The wind had probably changed, and just in time.

Turning, I surveyed the mountains that lay southeast of us. The mountains closest to us were coated in tall, evergreen trees, but further to the east they were black and rocky. Directly to the east, I spotted a slight glimmer – a lake, or maybe the ocean.

I didn't want to stop and think about what we had just been through, because I knew I would panic. Percy and Annabeth were somewhere in that forest. Percy and Annabeth could be dead. And even though she appeared older than I was now, to me Annabeth was still the little blond girl with the clever eyes, the one who I had sworn to protect. And Percy… Percy was a dear friend, an honored one.

Logically, of course, I knew that there was little else I could have done. But guilt is never logical, and for now, I decided I would just not think about it. Nico and I were still in serious trouble – we had lost our shelter, our food, and we had no idea where we were. Nico would be next to useless when I finally got around to waking him up. After all, yesterday's run would have drained him completely. Even I was sore, and I was used to this sort of thing. He probably wouldn't be able to move. (I spared a moment to shake my head at his idiocy – he should have spent less time making the dead do his dirty work and more exercising. Boys!)

Besides, I was better suited to wilderness survival in any case, though I did wish I had the other Hunters and some magically compressed tents. While I was at it, I really wished Lady Artemis was here – she had an aura of power and competence that I truly envied.

I sighed. But all I had was myself, my bow and arrows, my spear, my shield, and a semi-conscious son of Hades. To the south was more plains and grass, and to the west was the burnt-out forest. Percy, if he was alive, would head straight to the water I could see in the east. Annabeth would probably try the plains to the south, figuring people would be easier to spot on flat ground. My first instinct was to rush to the foothills of the mountains – I knew forests best, and I loved mountains so long as there weren't any cliffs. And Nico? Maybe he'd go back west. That forest certainly looked dismal enough.

As soon as Nico could walk, I decided, we'll go north. I can find us shelter and food, and once we're recovered we'll come back here. With that, I turned to Nico and shook him awake.

He was as slow to recover as I'd predicted, but to my surprise he didn't complain at all when I took charge and told him what I'd decided. He sat and rested while I made a brief excursion into the grass in search for food and didn't comment on the taste of slightly undercooked ground squirrel. Around noon, I used his short sword to cut him a walking stick and we moved on.

It was almost sunset by the time we reached a place I considered suitable for shelter. I rigged a makeshift tent by leaning some pine – Actually, it wasn't pine, but it was similar enough for me to call it that – branches against a large boulder. It was more comfortable that you might have thought, though it was still nothing compared to what I was used to. Nico built a fire while I hunted, but when I returned, he was already asleep, the fire dying beside him. He woke long enough to devour half of a rabbit, then collapsed inside our shelter.

I sat and stared at the stars for a while longer. More than anything else I had seen in the past three days, those stars brought home the fact that I was further from home than I had ever been. I knew every constellation in the sky, but these stars were utterly foreign. With a vague feeling of betrayal, I crawled into the shelter and closed my eyes.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Thanks to both arandomreviewer and Emerald Swordsman for their ideas on the plot – I appreciate it. There's not a whole lot of action this chapter, but worry not! It will pick up eventually, once I get my ideas straightened out and on paper. So, here's chapter five, and I hope you enjoy it!

Chapter 5

-Annabeth

I woke at dawn as a bandit pulled me from the horse and loosened the ropes that bound my hands and feet. My limbs had gone to sleep a long time ago, and the agony of returning sensation almost made me pass out again. I clenched my teeth and resisted the clinging darkness. The bandit handed me a piece of stale bread and a hunk of half-cooked deer meat. What was it called? Venison, that's it. Had I not been half-starved, it would have tasted awful, but I hadn't eaten since before we were transported to this godforsaken dimension. I devoured the bread and the meat – hoping fervently that I wasn't going to get E. coli or salmonella or intestinal worms – and took a few gulps of stream water. A different bandit approached me, and looking at the bloody bandage on his arm, I realized it was the bandit that had gotten under Percy's guard and shoved him in the river. If Percy was dead, then it was this man's fault.

I glared at him, filled with a sudden desire to leap forward and punch him in the throat, but he didn't notice, or maybe he just didn't care. He took a fresh rope and bound my hands in front of me. My feet he bound more loosely, with about six inches of rope in between each foot. Clearly, they had decided to give their poor horse a break and were going to make me walk instead of ride.

Looking at him up close, I realized how foolish it would be to attack him bare-handed. Even hunched over, he was still almost six feet tall, with greasy hair and muscles the size of grape fruits. I watched him as he tied me up, memorizing his features. If it was the last thing I did, this overgrown rat would die at my feet.

-Nico

I woke up a few hours after dawn, blinking groggily and still as sore as I had ever been in my entire life.

Thalia was already up, obviously. I pulled myself into a sitting position, biting back a groan, then crawled out of our little shelter. She was bent over examining the ground on the very edge of our clearing, her face creased in worry.

"What is it?" I asked hoarsely. I coughed, surprised by how rough my voice was.

Thalia looked up and frowned. "You're probably dehydrated. Follow me."

_Good morning to you too, Thalia_.

I followed her through the woods until we reached at small, clear creek. I knelt and, on an impulse, stuck my entire head into the water. After a second, I jumped back with a yelp. It was _cold_! Thalia snorted in amusement, and I drank my fill. The water was the cleanest I'd ever tasted, with a hint of metal and glass.

I cleared my throat and tried to speak again. "So, what were you looking at?"

She frowned. "I think they were dragon tracks."

_Fantastic._

-Elincia

I sat with Lucia on the wide, padded window ledge in my rooms, quietly embroidering the sleeve of a pale blue shirt. Lucia was – or, perhaps more accurately, should have been – weaving a pattern of flowers along the hem of a nearly-finished orange dress. She fidgeted, picking out her stitches and beginning again with a frustrated sigh. I resisted the temptation to mirror her sigh – she was starting to grate on my nerves. I knew she was just taking out her anger at being left behind, but that excuse had worn out quite some time ago.

I glanced out the window, searching the horizon for any sign of the hunters. I had to turn away after a moment because my window faced directly to the west, and now the sun was just lowering itself to touch the horizon, its light growing more and more intense. Lucia shook her head at me. "Tsk tsk," she told me in a remarkable imitation of her nurse, a strict old woman from the deep south who Lucia hated wholeheartedly. "Yous peepers won't thankee fur dat when you mah age, hun."

I laughed, glad that Lucia had momentarily broken out of her gloomy mood. "But fourteen is positively ancient! Surely I'll never be that old." More seriously, I added, "I know. I just…"

"Geoffrey will be fine," she told me, and then her face twisted into a bitter smile. "If Father thinks he's up to it, then he certainly is."

I winced. I hadn't meant to remind her of her father's cutting words when she had asked to come along on the hunt. But she patted my shoulder, her tight expression softening into a genuine smile. She didn't say a word, but she didn't need to.

We returned to our sewing, but that didn't last long; the reddish light of sunset faded quickly. We could have lit candles or lamps, but I had long ago discovered that there is something heart wrenchingly forlorn about trying to embroider by anything but sunlight. Lucia made no effort to mask her intense relief at finally being freed from a task she hated, and quickly shoved the offending needles and thread back into a small wooden case. The dress was left folded on the window ledge beside the shirt, which I'd finally managed to finish. Before I left the windowsill to dress for bed, I glanced out the window one last time. I frowned. It looked like there were two mounted horses riding at a canter down the path to Delbray. One was small enough to be a pony, but the other was larger. It was difficult to tell in the fading light, but I thought the larger horse might have been carrying a second passenger.

No sooner had I seen them than the watchman on the gate called a warning to the gatekeeper. As the riders came closer to the gate, I recognized the smaller of the two as my foster brother, Geoffrey. At first, I was delighted that he had returned so soon, but then my heart twisted with anxiety as I wondered where the rest of the hunters might be. The other was older with blonde hair. He seemed familiar, but he was too far away for me to recognize him. Lucia, craning her head out the window, curled her lip in disgust.

"Oh, fantastic!"

The sarcasm startled me, and I looked at her curiously. "What?"

"It's that ridiculous fancy fop, Bastian." She spat his name as if it was the worst curse word in her vocabulary.

"The Count who asked to court you a few months ago?"

"Yes." The word dripped with venom.

With great difficulty, I resisted the powerful urge to give in to a fit of laughter. The day Count Bastian had ridden through our gates flinging roses from a basket on his saddle and speaking to Lucia for nearly an hour with the most flowery, poetic and utterly ridiculous speech I'd ever heard would go down in Delbray history as the funniest thing that had ever happened in this fief. Especially after Lucia dumped a bucket of raw meat on his head and sent him off with language that would have done a dock hand from Daein proud. Even the men at arms on the castle walls were laughing as Count Roger's (1) pack of hounds chased Bastian out the gate, attracted by the smell of meat. But if I had so much as giggled at that moment, Lucia might've thrown me out of the window. Wait, nevermind. She would _definitely_ have thrown me out the window, and probably speared me with a sewing needle or two.

It took me a few minutes to convince Lucia to come with me to greet Geoffrey and see why he had returned without her father; she was loathe to be anywhere near her would-be admirer, but she and her brother were very close, and she wanted to make sure he was alright. We swept down the stairs, lifting up our skirts and running. The guards had taken the riders and their horses into the courtyard. A few feet from the entrance, Lucia and I settled our skirts and glided over the stones as we had been taught.

Geoffrey was uninjured but clearly worn out. Bastian seemed just as energetic and flamboyant as ever as he explained their situation in an elegant prose that no one quite understood. When he paused to take a breath, Geoffrey cut in.

"Count Roger and the rest are fine – they stayed behind to hunt down a group of bandits and sent us to get help for him." He nodded at the limp figure slumped on Bastian's saddle.

Comprehension dawned in the soldiers' faces. Bastian began a monologue on the elegance of simplicity, but stopped, dramatically, midsentence when he saw Lucia approaching. "Surely my eyes are cheated by some wondrous enchantment, for the beauty before me exceeds –"

He yelped when Geoffrey stamped – hard – on his foot. I hid a smile as the blue-haired twelve-year-old glared at the older, taller Count. Geoffrey's patience had obviously run out, and if he'd been traveling with Bastian for the entire day, I really couldn't blame him. Despite the age difference, Bastian actually seemed repentant, or maybe he just knew when he'd gone a bit too far. He leaned meekly against the stone wall, still glancing at Lucia from time to time. The men at arms shook their heads in amusement as they lifted the boy down from Bastian's horse.

I took a few steps closer to examine our visitor. He wasn't as old as Bastian, perhaps, but not much younger. His hair was black, cut short but still messy, and his features were strong and handsome, though tense, as if his dreams troubled him. If he stood, I guessed he'd be at average height, a few inches taller than Bastian, and his hands were callused in the manner of a swordsman who had plenty of opportunities to use his skill. A simple, leather sheath was strapped to the saddle – I assumed it was his, as neither Bastian nor Geoffrey carried a sword. Strange letters were etched into the leather with black dye, along with the symbol of a staff with three barbed prongs in blue. It looked vaguely familiar, but I couldn't think of the proper term for it.

Lucia, ignoring Bastian's imploring gazes from the corner Geoffrey had banished him to, joined me. She loosened the leather ties and pulled the sword from the sheath. The blade was a deep bronze color, but surprisingly high quality. Most of our guards preferred to use iron or steel for their weapons, silver if they could afford it, but not bronze. It was a weaker metal – usually. The same strange letters were carved into the hilt, and the sword showed none of the wear and tear I'd expect a used sword to show. Power seemed to emanate from the blade, which gleamed as if it held a light of its own instead of merely reflecting sunlight. Holding the hilt in both hands, Lucia hefted the sword and lifted her eyebrows. "This is a great sword," she told me. "Perfect balance, which is unusual. Bronze is hard to balance."

The captain of the guard, a large, muscled man whose gruff demeanor hid a very kind center, coughed, almost apologetically. Count Roger had forbidden Lucia or me to handle weapons, and the captain was bound by his oath of loyalty to enforce this. Lucia sighed and slid the sword back into its sheath. She carried it up the stairs and laid it by the boy's bedside. The soldiers had placed him in the infirmary, a clean, sweet-scented room. One of the few activities Count Roger encouraged in Lucia and me was healing, which I loved and Lucia hated, so I spent plenty of time there.

"The healing woman said he'd sleep until tomorrow morning," Geoffrey said. I jumped, startled. I hadn't seen him come up behind me.

Lucia grabbed his wrist and sat him down on one of the beds. "Tell us what happened," she demanded, eyes sharp.

He nodded tiredly, and related the entire tale. By the time he was done, the stars were beginning their nightly dance overhead and he was half-asleep. I could see that Lucia wanted to ask a dozen different questions, but I shook my head at her. There would be plenty of time tomorrow, when all three of us were well-rested, and our guest would – hopefully – wake. Lucia and I helped Geoffrey up the stairs to his room. Bastian was resting up in the guest quarters in another wing of the castle.

Our own rooms were up another staircase, through a long, poorly-lit hallway, and into a secret passageway hidden behind a tapestry. I wished Lucia a good night, and she nodded distractedly. I could tell by the gleam in her eyes that she would lay awake half the night wondering about the boy and who he might be.

To be totally honest, so would I.

(1) - I don't know what Lucia and Geoffrey's father was actually called, so in my story he's Count Roger of Delbray.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: My deepest apologies to all who have been awaiting my update. Fortuantely, I have a good excuse. My dad fell off his motorcycle and broke some ribs and my mom just had surgery, so neither of them could drive me to the library. I couldn't even ride my bike there because my right foot is in a boot-thingie because I have a stress fracture in my right heel, which really, really bites because I can't run at all, I constantly step on my own foot, I have major problems with stairs, and I limp around like a pirate with a pegleg (step, clump, step, clump). My family now calls me "Hop-a-long". Even my little brother is injured - he just started football and is learning how to tackle and be tackled. He came home looking like a punching bag.

Once more, my thanks to Emerald Swordsman and arandomreviewer for giving me such great feedback! You guys rock!

arandomreviewer – I didn't answer your question about Thalia's aging because, well, I haven't quite decided yet. It's possible for her to be immortal because Lehran was practically immortal, but I just don't know. I think I'll cross that bridge when I come to it. Also, I'm sorry you don't like the idea of armor, but I never really liked the Curse of Achilles to begin with. In the context of the Last Olympian it was okay, but personally, I hate it when authors try to make their characters invincible. A character should always have room to grow, and their skills and success should come from constant hard work. If I could get away with it, I'd just ignore the Curse altogether, but since I'm trying so hard to stick to "reality" I figured I'd better include it. The armor is my compromise.

Wait… Did you say… potato flavored ice cream?

Emerald Swordsman – Thank you! I really appreciate your support of my story (and I hate it when you rely too much on tanks too – although I do love Titania in RD). Having Annabeth fight for Daein against Percy seems a bit too predictable – she would just be like Ilyanna (randomly joining Crimeans in the middle of battle…). That doesn't mean they won't end up on opposite sides at some point (evil grin) or that one of the four won't be fighting for Daein… It just won't happen like that. I'm sorry if you thought Lucia was out of character, but she _is_ fourteen, and still being restricted by her father. She has five more years to grow into the calm, clever woman we all know and love.

Chapter 6

-Thalia

The night after I found the dragon tracks – the second night we had spent in our mountain shelter – I barely slept at all. The tracks had been less than a day old when I'd found them, which meant we'd missed the dragon by a few hours, if that, when we found this shelter. I doubted the dragon would come back, but it never hurt to be cautious.

At least, I was assuming it was a dragon. The tracks it left indicated four clawed, reptilian paws, a long spiked tail, and wings. The prints were deep, meaning that it weighed a great deal. It had longer legs than the dragons I was used to – the steps were further apart than most dragon tracks – but the overall body length from tail marks to front paw prints was much shorter. If it was a dragon, it was a western-style one, like the kind you see in medieval stories with the knight in shining armor and the helpless princess. I scowled. I hate that kind of story – the princesses are always _so_ pathetic. They and their unrealistically noble and handsome rescuers are an anathema to everything that I, as a Hunter of Artemis, stood for.

And they're just stupid.

Looking critically at the rabbits I had managed to kill earlier that morning, I decided to put them on a spit over the fire. Skinning would be a bit messy, especially since we didn't even have a plate to put the meat on. The fire I had built guttered slightly and I shivered as an unnatural chill swept over the clearing, emanating from Nico and that creepy black sword of his. I glared at him, but his eyes were closed tight in concentration. After a moment, he sighed heavily and opened his eyes. The temperature quickly returned to normal, and my fire danced giddily in its pit.

I looked at Nico and lifted an eyebrow as he slumped tiredly by the fire.

"I tried to see what happened to Percy and Annabeth," he said by way of explanation. "I don't think they're dead, but it's hard to be sure. Things work differently here."

I started to ask what he meant, then figured I probably didn't want to know.

-Lucia

I woke at dawn, as usual. Before donning my day clothes, I put on a pair of boy's breeches and a simply woven shirt and did a series of stretches and exercises that Geoffrey had shown me a year ago, when he'd started page training. If Father wouldn't train me, I'd train myself, even if he was sure to have me punished should he ever find out. Dunking my head in a pail of water I'd drawn last night, I washed the sweat from my face and put my boy clothes back in their hiding spot. Carefully, I slipped into an embroidered pale blue and lavender dress, pinning my hair up so I could do the laces. I had long ago forbidden any maidservants to help me dress – partially in an effort to keep my exercises a secret, but mostly because I simply hated being waited on.

The dress was Elincia's work, a beautiful thing with tight sleeves just past my elbows so I could move my arms, and a wide, airy skirt that was just a fingerbreadth higher than normal so that I could walk quickly, even run. It was my favorite dress, and I wore it today because today felt like a special occasion. Something unusual, something _exciting_, had happened, and for once I could be a part of it too.

I reached Elincia's door just as she was striding out, looking absolutely stunning in her orange and gold dress. We nearly collided but managed to catch ourselves in time, laughing as we recovered our footing. Elincia apparently felt the same way I did, because she also wore one of her favorite dresses. For some reason I never understood, Elincia loved the color orange. Frankly, I hated it. It was one of those obnoxious colors that stood out no matter where you went, and I loathed being the center of attention. Elincia, of course, managed to make it look beautiful.

We made quite the pair, the twelve-year old, emerald-haired beauty in a gown that would have looked ridiculous on anyone else and the tall gangly girl who hid her face with a lock of blue hair in a pale gown that matched the quiet shade of her eyes and hair. Geoffrey met us at the foot of the stairs, blinking in confusion when he saw that we were both dressed in our best.

Boys. They never understand the significance of a woman's clothing.

He bowed as Father did when greeting the royal ladies who occasionally visited Delbray (I had always suspected that they were the court vultures looking to take my late mother's place, and the three of us always did our humble best to rid our castle of them. None stayed for long.). "Good morning, my ladies. You both look lovely," he said politely, acting the perfect gentleman, though not a week ago he had tripped me into a puddle of mud in the courtyard, and I doubted he would hesitate to do so again, given the chance. As it happened, I was still planning my revenge for that little trick. Perhaps a bucketful of mud could find its way into his closet, or his bed?

He offered an arm to each of us, and I took one, wincing as I realized he was now only an inch shorter than I was, though he was two years younger. _He'll outgrow me soon,_ I realized as the three of us made straight for the infirmary to learn what we could of our interesting new guest. _How depressing._

To our surprise, our visitor was already up on his feet, examining his surroundings with clear, sea-green eyes. Though he must have heard us walking down the hall towards the door, he seemed shocked at our appearance. Perhaps he simply wasn't expecting nobility?

The silence quickly became awkward. Our guest didn't seem to know what to make of us, nor we of him. After looking each of us over carefully, his eyes seemed to settle on me. His eyes were… riveting. There was humor there, but also the aged look I associated with soldiers who had seen their friends die in pools of blood and then turned around and gutted the enemy who had killed them. Asleep, he had appeared a boy, not quite across the threshold of adulthood. Now, awake and alert, those eyes made him a man. For once in my life, I was speechless.

It was Elincia who broke the silence. "Hello. My name is Elincia. Who are you?" The sense of relief was palpable. Finally given something to say, the man spoke.

"Uh… Percy. Percy Jackson. Oh, and hello. Er, good morning?" Percy's air of mystique was promptly shattered. Clearly, he had no idea what to say to a lady as beautiful as Elincia – or perhaps he had never met a member of the nobility, as the three of us clearly were. He had a strange accent I didn't recognize, and though it was faint enough to pass for Crimean, it certainly wasn't noble.

"Good morning! I'm Lucia," I said, before silence could settle in once more. "Welcome to Castle Delbray." Too formal? Maybe, but I wasn't sure what else to say.

"Um, thanks." He seemed to hesitate, half-opening his mouth to ask something before snapping it shut to rethink what he might say.

"And I'm Geoffrey." Then, guessing what Percy might be about to ask, he continued. "Delbray is a day's ride from where we found you, which was in a river. What happened, by the way?"

Percy's face darkened with anger, concern, and perhaps a hint of chagrin. "My – my friend and I were looking for a town to get some supplies, and we were attacked. I guess they were some kind of criminal." He grimaced in self-disgust. "And I let one of the –"he looked at Elincia and changed what he was going to say –"idiots get under my guard. Stupid mistake." Then concern overtook his features. "Was I the only one you found?"

Geoffrey nodded, but hastened to reassure him. "My father, Count Roger, is still out there, looking for the bandits that attacked you."

I sat down on the edge of a bed. I'd stayed up far too late last night, and I was paying for it now. "Is your friend a swordsman, like you?"

He glanced at me. "Well, no. She uses daggers, mostly. Her name is Annabeth."

Annabeth? A girl? For some reason, I didn't like the sound of that. "You were traveling together?"

He didn't seem to catch the insinuation in the question, though Elincia did. She raised an eyebrow at me. "No. I mean, it wasn't just the two of us. There was Thalia and Nico too. Thalia uses a spear, and a bow. Nico has a shortsword. They were back at our camp when Annabeth and I were attacked."

Well, that was a little better. Not much.

"Where were you going?" Elincia asked, perching on the bed beside me. Geoffrey pulled up a chair, but Percy stayed standing. He seemed restless.

He shrugged. "Nowhere, really. We were just trying to get out of the house, and then we got kind of lost."

I could understand that. If I could, I'd be "out of the house" in a moment. Elincia seemed satisfied with his answers, and nodded. Geoffrey still looked curious.

"You don't sound like you're from Crimea."

"I'm not. We, the four of us, are from Manhattan." He half-smiled, as if remembering some old joke. "It's this little island, a mile or so off the coast. It's pretty hard to find, and no one from the mainland's set foot there in a long, long time. They – the people there – like their privacy. But it was small, you know?"

He was hiding something. That much was obvious. But that was fine; we all had our secrets.

-Percy

I just could not get over their hair. I didn't dare say anything – it was a video game (world, dimension, whatever), so bright blue hair might be normal, but still! It was so weird!

It was even weirder considering that besides the hair and their clothes, they definitely could have passed for normal kids. I've seen some pretty strange things in my life, but this was something else altogether. I don't care how many mythological Greek monsters try to kill you, hair the color of Astroturf still looks bizarre.

And these three kids, especially the two girls, were decked out like medieval royalty. I was used to old-fashioned Greek stuff, but this was a completely different style. Greeks preferred a toga-like garment called a chiton. It was just a square of cloth pinned to look like a robe or a tunic. If they wanted to show off their wealth, they'd wear elaborate jewelry and perfume their hair. This was way more Renaissance.

The younger girl, Elincia, wore an eye-smarting shade of orange that somehow worked for her with a few pieces of pure gold jewelry (thanks to the Aphrodite cabin, I knew perfectly well how to tell the difference between fake jewelry and "the real deal". It was a very long, very painful process, but eventually my knowledge satisfied Drew, the new head councilor of that cabin. She was pretty and convincing, but a total dictator.). Her green hair was down with a simple pin holding a few strands out of her face. Geoffrey, who looked about her age, wore a storm-gray shirt with dark leather breeches that were the same style as my own, but much higher quality. The older girl, who was maybe fourteen or fifteen, wore a gown that matched her hair perfectly, though the sleeves and skirt were shorter than Elincia's. Lucia wore almost no jewelry except for a gold chain with a blue stone around her neck. Her hair was pinned up in the back, but cut so that her bangs completely concealed her left eye.

Their speech was kind of weird. They were kind of formal, though I definitely appreciated the bluntness – when you hang out with gods and centaurs and Oracles, you really start to hate people who beat around the bush. Their accent was almost British, but not. Geoffrey and Elincia seemed to accept my little story about "Manhattan", but I was pretty sure Lucia wasn't buying it. But she wasn't saying anything, so I figured I got away with it, at least for now. And once I found out a bit more about this place, I could come up with something better. I hoped.

And I was worried about Annabeth. I mean, I _know_ she can take care of herself. I'd had that lesson beaten into me more times than I liked to admit. But I'd dreamed… something. It was hard to remember, but I was positive she was in trouble. I was also positive I could do nothing about it – as much as I absolutely hated it.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: RoyalTwinFangs- I do like that picture, but I think it will probably end up being more Greek style. Thanks for reviewing!

formerlyarandomreviewer (Your name is truly getting ridiculously long. I'm just gonna call you f.a.r.r., okay?) and Emerald Swordsman- At this point, it doesn't matter all that much exactly what Percy's Curse will manifest itself as, because it won't happen for a long time. But I love all your feedback! *wipes away seriously overdone tears of gratitude*

Now, all of my faithful readers, reviewers, and stalkers, I must apologise to you. School started a week ago, and updates will come even slower. I know, I know. I already update with all the alacrity (I got that spelled right on the first try! Go me!) of a brain-dead slug. But I do my best! So please don't give up on me! And never be afraid of telling me what you think, about my writing or plot (especially my writing), and don't be insulted if I don't use your ideas.

And thank you for your concern about the collective health of my family. I swear, I think some bad luck genie really has it our for my family, because not one week after my foot healed, I caught one heck of cold, and I was blowing my nose and sneezing my brains out all through my classes on Thursday and Friday. It SUCKED.

I promise I won't let it affect my writing. But... if you see more typos than usual, please let me know. I just hope this god-forsaken cold doesn't go to my brain.

Chapter 7

-Annabeth

The sun was getting dangerously close to the horizon by the time the leader of the bandits decided to stop. It was my second day of walking, and my whole body was one enormous bruise. Yesterday night, the man who seemed to be in charge of me – called "Purk" by his companions – had tied my hands to the saddle of their horse, which was a surprisingly effective way to prevent escape. The horse was a high-strung, nervous creature, and I couldn't reach the knot without disturbing her. Purk was a particularly disgusting individual, with greasy blondish hair, rough hands, a nose that held remarkable similarities to a piece of cauliflower and narrow, squinty eyes, in addition to the filthy bandage on his arm. As much as I desperately wanted to pretend he didn't exist and spare my corneas further damage, I paid close attention to him and all his habits.

After all, if I ever wanted to avenge Percy and leave Purk to bleed out in the dust, I had to know as much as I could.

Anyway, I expected that I would be tied to the poor horse once more, but instead I was bound loosely to a tree branch. If I hadn't been so tired, I would have been suspicious. As it was, I collapsed on the ground.

In my defense, I had been walking for nearly nine hours straight two days in a row in hot sun with little water and a few handfuls of half-cooked deer meat. I have better stamina than most, but I was still about three quarters dead.

The bandits set up camp, pulling out rations of moldy food probably stolen from innocent travelers a week or two ago and bottles of the cheapest, most rancid beer I have ever had the misfortune to be near. As always, they tossed vulgarities and dirty jokes back and forth as they worked. I tried to block them out, but my empty stomach refused to let me slip into the comforting depths of unconsciousness. This turned out to be a good thing, because not a half hour after we stopped, I spotted a caravan heading towards us.

It was reasonably large, with a half dozen wagons packed to the gills with enormous crates and a good twenty or thirty guards, all cut from the same cloth as my captors; greasy, muscular and cruel.

As the caravan approached, I sat up, interested enough to momentarily banish my body's various complaints. Looking at the crates, I got a lump in my throat. They were moving, as if whatever was inside was alive and wanted out. With sudden clarity, I remembered the bandit's words when I was first kidnapped. _"Them slave traders like sub-humans, but they'll always take a pretty girl too, won't they, boys?" _That was a slave caravan. I was a slave. Oh, crap.

(In retrospect, I can't believe it took me that long to connect the dots. Why did I think they bothered to keep me alive? Shame, Annabeth, shame!)

The caravan settled itself in a semi-circle, and now that I was paying attention I realized that the ground showed the caravan's tracks driven deep into the dirt. This was a meeting place, or at least an often-used campsite.

Purk grabbed my rope and tugged me to my feet. I considered struggling, but decided against it. Better to seem timid from now on. My new guards might get lazy, though if they try to put me in a crate, I don't see how lax security will help my chances any.

As Purk dragged me over to a gathering of the slave traders, I heard a snarling sound come from one of the crates. It was distinctly animalistic, probably feline. My heart skipped a beat. If I recalled correctly, then the bandit had mentioned that slave traders preferred sub-humans. Sub-humans? What had I gotten myself into?

One man stepped forward. Short, with long, red hair and a clever, sadistic face, he was clearly the leader, and stuck out like a sore thumb. He shook hands with the leader of the bandit group, a six-and-a-half foot brute named Hugo, and turned to me.

"She's all we got this time 'round, Red. We was in Crimea, mostly," Hugo commented. "So, no sub-humans. But we didn't want ta come empty-handed." He shook his head. "Poor pickin's there, nowadays. The merchants are gettin' smart an' hirin' guards. Mercenaries makin' trouble too. We was thinkin' we'd head out towards Daein, after we dropped 'er off with you." He gestured at me. I glanced at him out of the corner of my eyes. I'd never heard him sound that nervous before.

"Red" put his hands under my chin and turned my face this way and that. I only barely resisted the temptation to bite his fingers. "Humans are hard to sell," he said finally. "Especially ones that aren't much use in the fields. I can't give you much for her." His accent and grammar were considerably more sophisticated that Hugo's, but his tone was condescending and nasal.

Hugo looked indignant. "She was hard to come by. Travelin' in a group, she was. Her boyfriend put paid to four of my boys afore Purk got to 'im." I noticed that Hugo had credited my two kills to Percy, for which I was thankful. I didn't want Red to know just how good I was with a dagger. Involuntarily, I cast a dark look in Purk's direction. I couldn't help it. He was puffing out his chest, an unbearably smug look on his face. If Percy had been a full strength, he could have torn every one of these imbeciles to scraps!

From the amused smirk on Red's face, I gathered that he was more observant than my previous traveling companions. I glared at him, which earned me a superior chuckle. "Not my problem, Hugo. But I like her spunk, so I'll give you a hundred fifty gold for her." Hugo immediately began to protest, but Red silenced him with a wave of his hand. "I'm not finished. I'm short a few boys as well, so I'll hire you and yours. Wages are fifty gold and a flask of good, Begnion beer a week. Interested?"

Apparently he was, because he and the others practically fell over themselves to accept the offer. My rope was secured to the tree branch once more, and the men wandered off to celebrate their new good fortune. Standing over me, Red sneered. "Like I said, your ilk is hard to sell. You're hardly worth a hundred fifty, love, but if we don't find a buyer we can always feed you to the Feral Ones."

Meeting his eyes squarely, I took the bait and asked. "What are the Feral Ones?"

He leered at me. I realized that if he cleaned up and got a haircut, Red could have actually been handsome. Maybe he had been, once, but his face was now firmly set in an ugly sneer. He grabbed my rope and dragged me towards the very last wagon, painted a dark reddish color. A peculiar odor wafted from it, sickly sweet with a harsh, bloody undertone. I dug my feet into the dirt, panicking now, but he was much stronger than me. Tortured growls emanated from the iron-enforced crates. There were four cages on the wagon, each with gaps in between each wood-and-metal slat. One was heavily damaged and empty, but the others…

An enormous saber-toothed tiger stared at me with blood-crazed eyes, drool spilling from his half-open maw. It thrust a paw through the gap closest to me and clawed the air desperately. In another cage, a dull yellow cat about the size of a leopard gnawed on a meaty bone, cracking it easily in half to lick at the marrow. An over-sized black bird reeking of carrion cawed at me angrily, pecking at the door of its crate. It was horrible.

"They make horrible slaves, the Feral Ones," Red said conversationally, gripping my arms and holding me directly in front of the tiger. "But once they're trained, they make excellent soldiers. The problem is their appetite. Our hawk escaped, and went through a half-dozen of my men before I put an arrow in him." He nodded towards the empty cage, and I spotted gouges in the metal that could have been from talons, if a hawk's talons were the size of daggers. "I'll have to take one of the sub-humans and make a new one soon."

Unable to stand the awful stench any longer, I bent over and started retching. My head spun as Red pulled me backwards, laughing. My legs gave way, and he literally dragged me back to the tree and tied me back up, checking each of his knots twice. I choked down some food and water and collapsed on the ground, shaking with leftover adrenaline. My dreams were vague that night, filled with nightmarish images of the Feral Ones. But before I slept I thought about my oath to kill Purk.

I decided that I would kill Red too.

-Nico

Despite Thalia's discovery of dragon tracks, we remained in the little clearing, resting and regaining our strength. I started to experiment more with my powers and discovered that even though my Shadow Travel didn't work at all, I could still control shadows, at least a bit. Rocks didn't respond to me at all, but the whispers of the dead grew stronger with each day. They were loudest at night, but even then I could only pick out a word here and there. I couldn't access the Underworld or sense the Judges, but I could feel the presence of restless spirits. In a few more days, I might even be able to see them, should I happen to encounter any. I doubted there were any this high in the mountains, so I'd have to wait and see.

Thalia had no such luck. Though she still was unusually prone to shocking people (me) with static electricity, she couldn't manage to create actual sparks. Her Hunter abilities, however, were intact, except for her ability to magically vaporize her bow and knife. Now she had to carry them on her back, which she didn't seem to mind very much.

It was actually kind of fun. Thalia taught me how to set snares for my food, and we cautiously began to experiment in which plants were safe to eat. I already knew how to build a fire, but she taught me how to cook my prey over it, and it turned out I wasn't as bad in the woods as both of us had thought.

I guess we should have known it wouldn't last.

Our third night at our little camp was quiet, except for the ghostly murmurs only I could hear. Then, Thalia straightened up, looking around suspiciously.

"What is it?"

"I thought I heard – "And then the night was shattered by a thunderous, reptilian roar. A dragon plunged through the tree tops, red scales glittering in the moonlight. I barely caught a glimpse of it before a clawed foreleg blindsided me and I went flying into the trees. My head slammed into the trunk of a pine tree and I saw stars. I landed with my arms and legs at awkward angles on the ground, blood trickling down the side of my skull and my side already throbbing from the dragon's blow. I managed to push myself up onto my hands and knees, but then the world spun dizzily around me and everything went black.

When I woke up, Thalia and the dragon were gone.

A/N: DUN DUN DUN! I just love my cliffhangers... muhahah- ACHOO! *scrambles for a tissue, completely destroying any impression of evil intelligence or dignity*

-FAIL-

dang it...


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Not counting author's notes, this chapter is 2,701 words long. I hope you guys are impressed. XD Also, I feel I should apologize (AGAIN) for how obscenely late this chapter is. Curse my stupid home computer! Finally, I'm sorry if this story is a bit slow, but that's just my writing style. I'll try and speed up though. Thank you times a million for your continued support and reviews. You guys are the only reason I'm still writing this (instead, I don't know, doing my math homework *coughcough*).

Chapter 8

-Annabeth

A man I didn't know kicked me awake about an hour after the sun rose. He had bizarre dark purplish hair, but I was too exhausted to be surprised. I felt like I'd barely slept at all between nightmares.

I wondered if they'd make me walk again today, but instead the man was leading/dragging me over to the second wagon, where Red and Hugo were waiting. Red smiled nastily at me. "How was your night, love?"

I summoned just enough energy to coat my response in infamous, teenage sarcasm. "Positively wonderful."

Hugo looked surprised at my boldness – I hadn't said a single word the entire time I'd traveled with him – but didn't comment. Red just laughed, and gestured to the purple-haired man. "First things first. Tie her to the wagon wheel here, then go fetch the hawk out of the crate with the green and red marks in the third wagon." The man complied, tying my hands loosely enough that I could move a bit but not actually go anywhere, then slouched off towards the third wagon.

Another man was passing out breakfast, a simple ration of bread with a bit of rubbery cheese. I wolfed mine down – I was still hungry from my two-day hike, though my bonds made it somewhat difficult.

"The hawk" turned out to be a middle-aged man with black hair, tan skin, and two enormous wings extended behind him. I stared. So that was a sub-human. Immediately, questions flooded my mind (Could he fly? Were the tiger, the cat and the crow I'd seen also races of sub-human? What would a cat-man look like? Could he talk?), but they would have to wait. I was sure that whatever was about to happen to the poor hawk-man, Red was having me watch it for a reason. He fought the guards holding his arms, but he was out-numbered. He wore an iron collar around his neck – not tight enough to leave a scar but still very close to the skin. Red stepped forward, holding a clear glass bottle of greenish liquid in one hand and a much larger iron collar in the other. Four men pinned the hawk-man down, and Red switched the collars and poured the liquid down his throat.

For a minute, then two, the hawk-man seemed unaffected. Then a glow surrounded him, and he transformed into a giant hawk, with talons the size of daggers and a dangerous-looking beak, and I understood why Red had switched the collars. The hawk-man's old collar would have choked him if he'd turned into a hawk while wearing it. He shrieked and Red swiftly clipped a metal chain onto the collar. The bird ignored him, and after a long moment, he became a hawk-man once more. Three more men followed Red's example while the hawk-man lay gasping on the ground, clipping iron leads to the collar. When the hawk-man shifted again, he showed far more interest in the surrounding men, and his eyes gleamed with the bloodlust I'd seen last night. The four men held their leads tight, preventing the hawk from killing its captors. The hawk shifted several more times, each time shrieking louder and louder and becoming more and more wild, until the shifting stopped, and there in the center of the clearing was a blood-crazed, feathery monster. A Feral One.

I closed my eyes, sickened, as the men dragged the Feral One away to a brand-new, iron-enforced cage. Red laughed at the expression on my face, and I bit my tongue – hard. I was essentially helpless, and trying to kill him now would do no good at all. I just had to keep telling myself that…

"And now it's time to get going, boys. Put the girl in with the little kitty in the first wagon." Red tilted his head, placing a hand on his chin in a mockery of deep thought. "I know she's no sub-human, but I don't think a collar would go amiss, do you, Dergo?"

Dergo, the man with weird purple hair, shook his head and grinned stupidly. "Naw, boss, nawt at awl." He had an absolutely horrendous accent, and inwardly I wrinkled my nose in disgust. "Awl git wawn fur 'er."

Um, what?

Of course, his meaning became much clearer when he trotted off and returned with an iron collar like the one the hawk-man had been wearing. "Awl git wawn fur 'er," must mean "I'll get one for her." Where in the name of Athena did he learn to talk like that?

It seemed pointless to struggle, but there were limits to my patience. And having a purple-haired imbecile with all the obvious brainpower and eloquence of a fruit fly put a _collar _around my neck – especially when there was absolutely no logical reason beyond that of Red's sick sense of humor to do so – was just a bit much. When Dergo reached for my neck, I dodged easily enough, and despite the fact that both of my hands were tied to a wagon wheel with less than six inches of loose rope, I actually managed to avoid the moron for a solid minute. It was hilarious, to tell the truth, until Red grew impatient and put the razor-sharp head of an arrow to my collarbone and told his little minion to get a move on. Dergo was bright red with embarrassment – the color clashed _horribly_ with his hair – and locked the collar in place with a number of completely incomprehensible but probably obscene comments muttered under his breath.

_Just wait until you try to stick me in a crate, you pathetic excuses for sentient creatures_, I thought mutinously. The morning's display had put me in a decidedly rebellious mood, and I was going to make things as difficult for Red as I could without actually goading him into killing me. I didn't want to die yet, not while Purk and Red were still drawing breath.

They wouldn't die today, but neither would I. I would have pitied them if I didn't already hate them so much. No one made a worse enemy than a child of Athena.

I did have a purpose behind needling Red. I sensed that he truly would not hesitate to feed me to the Feral Ones – he'd probably even enjoy it, the sadist –, but he also seemed to like my "spunk", as he'd put it when he'd first bought me from Hugo. Therefore, it was probably safer for me to keep things… interesting. So long as I was careful, that is. As I was constantly telling Percy, Athena always has plan.

Taking no chances, Dergo pinned my shoulders to the side of the wagon with one of his broad, muscled arms while he untied my hands from the wheel. I rolled my eyes. Did the moron actually think I'd be stupid enough to run, even if I was unbound?

But the pressure of his upper arm against my chest made me think of an entirely different issue, and I decided I'd have to be even more careful. I wanted to be interesting enough for Red to not feed me to psychopathic animals, but I really, really didn't want to attract too much attention from these men. From the looks of things, I was the only female around (Though, granted, I wasn't sure about the sub-humans) and with my luck, it wouldn't be long before these greasy behemoths realized it. Could I rely on Red wanting to preserve my virtue? Er… maybe. Probably not.

Great. More complications.

Pulling my hands behind me but not bothering to secure them with the rope, Dergo pushed me towards the first wagon in the train. Another man, this one with dirty greenish brown hair, held my arms while Dergo carefully unfastened a large wooden crate from the wagon. Actually, the word crate would be kind of misleading. The sizes varied, but most were at least five feet tall. The one Dergo had unloaded was just a few inches taller than me and under five feet wide. A bright yellow X marked the top, but the other crates on that wagon were mostly marked with blue. One had two blue marks, and another, the biggest, was blue and green.

I figured Red had come up with some kind of color code so that his charges wouldn't have to know how to read to know what was inside. I wondered what they meant, but Dergo was already prying the top from the crate and menacing the contents with a nasty-looking battle ax. Whatever was inside hissed angrily, but obviously didn't want to take its chances with the ax. Before I could say a word, the man holding my arms was lifting me bodily into the crate. I managed to kick him a few times before he dropped me inside and slammed the lid down.

The darkness was instant. Light filtered dimly through tiny gaps in the wood that probably also doubled as air holes, but my eyes took their time adjusting. I tried to untangle myself from the crate's inhabitant, whom I had landed on when I was unceremoniously tossed in there, but the floor of my prison shifted suddenly as Dergo and his friend fit the crate back onto the wagon.

My cellmate was small, but wiry and agile, slithering out from under me with ease once the world was level once more. I blinked a few times, bringing my surroundings into sharper focus. The floor of the crate was padded with straw, but other than that and my cellmate, the crate was completely bare. But my eyes were mostly drawn to the young woman crouching a foot or two away from me. A pair of mismatched, glowing eyes regarded me with interest, one a dark pine needle green, the other a vivid purple. Her features were pert and catlike, and her hair was a pale icy blue, spiky and short. A pale blue tail whipped back and forth behind her, and matching cat ears stood at attention on top of her head.

A sub-human. I was so screwed.

-Thalia

_Who was the idiot who came up with "Look on the bright side"?,_ I wondered grumpily. _Because right now I really want to smack him._

There is no freaking bright side to being kidnapped by a dragon.

I mean, not only was I in serious pain (broken arm, at least three bruised ribs, blood all over me) and Nico was passed out on his own in the middle of nowhere (in a freaking video game world!), and I still had no idea if Percy and Annabeth were okay (I didn't even know if they were alive), but it was so stereotypical.

I was really starting to hate Tellius.

_At least you're alive_, my optimistic side told me.

_Shut up_, responded my inner pessimist.

The dragon had come out of nowhere, screeching bloody murder and knocking Nico into a tree before I could grab my spear. I'm better with a bow, really, but arrows aren't much good against scales, so I snatched my spear and shield and had about half a second to try and hit the darned thing before it turned around and slapped me with its tail. Naturally, I missed.

Long story short, the dragon decided I'd make a great lunch if it carried me off to its ridiculously high-up lair. Because, of course, I couldn't get kidnapped by a dragon that lived in a ground-level cave. No, this dragon had to carve its cave into a bloody cliff. That sucked. A lot.

As a Hunter of Artemis, I healed incredibly fast, but not fast enough to get out of the cave before the dragon woke up from its nap. Yes, its nap. What kind of dragon just drops its prey on the ground and starts snoring? Granted, I wasn't much of a threat in this condition, and yeah, I probably wasn't going anywhere, but still! It was so… snobbish. Condescending. Arrogant. I really hated arrogant people. Or dragons. Whatever.

I put the leather strap that held my quiver to my back between my teeth and carefully (and painfully) set the broken bone in my arm, using an arrow shaft and my heavy, leather belt as a makeshift splint. It was pretty rough, but better than nothing. And it only had to hold the bone in place long enough for me to get out of there. After that… well, I'd figure something out. Most of my arrows had fallen out or broken during the wild flight in the dragon's claws, but miraculously I still had all my weapons. My bow was strapped firmly to my back and reinforced with Hunter magic, I'd kept a death grip on my spear and my shield had somehow gotten jammed into a gap between two of the ridged scales on the dragon's chest and my bow. It wasn't like I could actually use any of them with my right arm broken, but it was still a good thing.

I had two choices. One, try and explore the pitch-black, probably endless cavern behind the dragon until it woke up and ate me. Two, try and climb the cliff face with a broken arm and fall to my death so the dragon would be spared the effort of killing me itself. I put my head in my hands and took a deep breath. I was going to die. And Dad was a world away.

Suddenly, a desperate plan began to form in the back of my mind. It was horrible and suicidal and utterly stupid (in other words, it was plan that Percy could have come up with), but, sadly enough, it was probably my best option. My only one, really.

Half an hour later, I was ready. I gripped my spear in my left hand and charged. Sparks flew wildly around the spearhead as I leapt onto the dragon's back and wedged it in between two armored scales. The dragon roared in shock and lunged forward, tumbling us both into the abyss.

_Oh gods_, I thought with my eyes shut tight. _This was the best plan I could come up with?_

Sadly, yes, it was.

(A/N: I thought about stopping the chapter here, but I figured that would just be mean. XD)

Our terrifying freefall stopped with a painful-sounding snap as the dragon spread its wings too fast in its panic. The sudden change in velocity slammed my head into the dragon's back, but I didn't let go of my spear. The dragon screamed as its wings were jerked upward painfully by the wind, but kept flying, if slower than before. A stream of fire-hot blood burned my hands, and I realized the momentum of our stop had driven my spear into the base of the dragon's neck. Never one to miss a golden opportunity, I settled my legs tightly against the dragon's side and pushed with all my might. I willed more sparks to fly from the spearhead, and the dragon's high-pitched roar told me it'd probably worked.

Its flight path became low and erratic, and I guessed I'd hit some kind of major artery. Clinging desperately to the dragon's side with my legs, I kept pushing the spear deeper into the base of the dragon's neck.

Then, in a single, heart-stopping moment, the dragon shuddered and died. And we fell. The jarring impact sent me flying from the dragon's back and snapped my makeshift splint into pieces. I didn't even have time to scream before I blacked out.


	9. A Note to Readers

11/16/11

Note to Readers:

So, no, this is not chapter. I know that I am so overdue it's not even funny, and I don't even have viable excuse. I am sincerely sorry for that, but it couldn't be helped. My inspiration took a holiday and school has been nearing overwhelming in the past month.

Now, I promise you that I WILL continue this story. I have completely revamped the plot and have an outline to the end of Path of Radiance, along with vague plans for Radiant Dawn. All that remains is to actually write the dang things... On that note, the next chapter will be written and posted by next Tuesday.

Thanks to Forcystus5, whose reviews reminded me that this story still existed! You reviewed for every single chapter - you rock!

Sincerely and apologetically,

Firebirds Falling


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